No April Fools post for me yesterday, as I was feeling like the fool! Why the fool? Because I feel that life has given me a drubbing of late, and I've had a hard time finding traction for my roleplaying aspirations of the near future. Forgive me, please, this may all be coming from my usual Monday depression! ;-) I have no strength to elaborate at the moment, but hopefully there will be no need for such elaboration, as I may pull out of my nosedive!

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Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote,The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,And bathed every veyne in swich licóurOf which vertú engendred is the flour;Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breethInspired hath in every holt and heethThe tendre croppes, and the yonge sonneHath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,And smale foweles maken melodye,That slepen al the nyght with open ye,So priketh hem Natúre in hir corages,Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;And specially, from every shires endeOf Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,The hooly blisful martir for to seke,That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.